Chase You
by soda-rebel
Summary: Alfred can't wait to take Arthur on a camping trip. Gift for midnightleone on Tumblr.


It was Alfred's idea, really. He had insisted on going on a camping trip because it was something that he had done with his family every year before college. With their engagement being just two weeks ago, Arthur was practically family. Not that he wasn't before, of course. Just, now more so than ever. Alfred couldn't wait to share such a special moment with him.

They had spent weeks packing, preparing, and scheduling. Alfred even called up his parents for directions to their old camping grounds. While on the call, Alfred heard his mother mumble something about the road and directions, but she dismissed it when he asked. Her only word of advice was to 'watch out for other cars'. Alfred laughed and assured her that they'd be fine. Just fine.

It was a crisp morning that they set out on, lavished in a gentle amount of fog. Just gentle enough to wrap up a body with. With bags and other necessities placed inside, they were ready for the three-hour drive. Arthur insisted that Alfred drove, calling him his "escort to the outdoors". And he smiled that slightly parted smile. The one that showed a dimple on his right side and a flash of mischief in his eyes. It was really a lovely smile. So Alfred drove.

Arthur was in charge of the music for the first hour, choosing songs that ranged from almost winter-esque Indie to only the best anarchy-inciting punk. They spent the drive pointing out objects in the landscape, like boulders and hills and trees. Arthur always picked the trees. He liked the colors they were regaining after the heavy spring rains. Alfred liked the way the dew sparkled in the muted light. Quite appropriately, a gentle song about fall leaves came on. What he wouldn't give for a nice hot cocoa right about now! The fog wasn't helping either, turning into the thickness and consistency of a boiled quilt.

"Can you imagine?" Arthur asked, more from the dream-like quality of the music than anything else. "We're getting married." It almost sounded like a question. Who would have thought Arthur, free-spirited explorer of exotic bookstores and condemner of touchy public love birds, was getting married?

Alfred sighed in content at the thought. They had been dating for what seemed like an eternity, not that Alfred was complaining. He liked turning around to find Arthur beside him in every second of life. He liked the wry smile that Arthur flashed when he said something stupid. Most of all, he liked how no matter how insignificant he regarded himself, Arthur would somehow convince Alfred that he was the greatest thing since air conditioning. And now, they really did have an eternity, a lifetime, to be together. He couldn't wait.

It had been a pickup truck of some sort. Maybe it was a convertible, though. Alfred wasn't paying attention. Of course, when a car rushes towards yours during a turn, you don't think much about what type of car it is. You don't really pay attention to much of anything. Just glimpses. Like the bright, cheerful, blue that stuck out to him, but only because of how ironic it was. Or maybe it was green? It didn't matter. Alfred was giving what was left of their five seconds of normality to Arthur, whose head was turned away from the window. His face still had the ghost of a smile. His hair was still gently tousled from the wind, decorated by droplets of rain. Alfred hadn't enough time to properly put his smile to rest, but his eyes and as a result, tears, caught up sooner than he planned. Something in Arthur's eyes, perhaps the dullness that they already held, told Alfred that he knew what was going to happen. That he wasn't afraid. Over the blaring horn, Arthur mouthed something simple, something sweet. Something Alfred didn't understand. How he wish he did. And then they were hit.

Alfred didn't see what happened. He was aware the car hadn't flipped, mainly because he could see it from where he lay. The grass lining the sides of the road was soft, and he was glad for that one small comfort. Judging from the glass that speckled his jacket, he was flung out from the side window. An immense pain in his head and chest pounded away, making him aware of their existence. Everything was covered in a thin tissue of confusion. The trees were too wide, the road was too small, and the car was most definitely too empty. Empty. What was empty? Empty.

Arthur.

Alfred had forgotten Arthur.

Arthur, with his last-second smile. Arthur, with his eyes that sang with life. Arthur, with his face framed perfectly by the light of destruction that was mere seconds away. He needed to find Arthur.

At first, Alfred whispered, his voice shaking just as much as his knees during the first steps of their search. And then he talked, able to walk with the speed of his words. But Arthur didn't answer him. So he yelled, jogging to keep up with the distance his words flew at. Arthur still didn't answer him. So Alfred screamed, tearing his muscles and vocal cords to find just a single hair of Arthur. He ran in circles around the car, the frantic truck driver calling the paramedics, the hazed trees, but he couldn't find Arthur. And then his leg snapped.

With a shout of pain, Alfred fell. Once his head slammed against the grass, Alfred squeezed his eyes tight. A short uproar of a migraine washed over him, accompanied by the twang of agony he felt in his femur. Everything was quivering, the air itself was shaking. Alfred cursed the entire trip for existing, family traditions be damned. And then he heard a cough.

"Arthur?" Alfred asked, eyes trying to focus on his fiance.

Arthur's face was littered with glass shards. The longest pieces stuck out haphazardly from his cheek, almost like phantasmagorical feathers. He must have hit his head as well, with the usually fair-colored hair quickly turning into rust. Peeking out from the middle of Arthur's neck was the angry red from where the seatbelt protected but then snapped. And the small cuts! There were just so many lacerations that they almost outnumbered Arthur's freckles.

"Oh, hello Alfred," he said, unaware of Alfred's inspection. Arthur's eyes were half-lidded and each word caused him to wheeze slightly, but he was awake.

"Darling, honey, you gotta stay awake for me, ok?" Alfred said. "Help is on the way, I just need you to keep those gorgeous eyes open for me, babe." He felt his panic rise, not sure if he should press down on wounds or leave them be. There was a particularly nasty gash near Arthur's hip, made evident by the pool of blood that was slowly increasing in size. Alfred hastily gathered fabric from his torn shirt to press into Arthur. Arthur, in return, hissed from the contact. "You're doing great, Artie," Alfred said.

Arthur chuckled, making him cough and gasp for air. "Hey, hey do you remember what you first said to me?" he asked in between ghastly heaving sounds.

"Artie, no not right now. We can talk about this in a bit please, just breathe," Alfred begged. Arthur's moving was making it worse, blood practically streaming out of him.

Arthur, of course, didn't listen. He continued in his ragged breathing and beamed as if he knew the greatest secret in the world.

"You said, you said I looked-" Arthur forced out another exasperated cough, splattering blood on his artificial frill of glass. Speckles of red dotted his face, with a steady drip of blood falling from his mouth. His eyes were barely visible flickers of green, his lids barely able to open. "You said," he mumbled. Arthur's brows furrowed in concentration.

"That you looked heavenly," Alfred finished.

Arthur perked up just slightly. "Ah yes, the sweetest thing you could've said."

"You punched me in the face for it," Alfred smiled, regaining some of his old humor. He couldn't help it, it was a lovely memory.

"I'll do it again if you get sappy on me," Arthur said, eyes closed in reverie. His breaths were ragged and torn like a broken sheet in the wind. And he was so still, so very, very still. Like that, he almost looked…

"You know," Alfred said, "I'd take a million punches to the face if it meant this didn't happen, Artie." Only now did he realize his glasses were nowhere to be found because his tears swam freely down his face without obstruction.

"I wish could take up that offer, but I'm afraid I can't move my arms, love," Arthur whispered. "Or my legs, really. Or anything. I can't feel anything, Alfred." Arthur sounded like defeat. He sounded like something far away and blue and iced.

"I'm sure they'll get here soon, darling," Alfred said, subconsciously pressing his shirt even harder into Arthur's hip.

"Alfred, I'm tired," Arthur whispered. "Can you lie with me? Just a bit, just until the paramedics get here." He yawned, quite convincingly too. Enough so that Alfred yawned as well.

"I guess...that we can do that. But wake me up if you're in pain, ok?"

Arthur nodded as he curled up against nothingness. As best he could, Alfred scooted over so he could place Arthur on his good leg. He drifted off to sleep while stroking Arthur's hair in a pattern all his own.

When Alfred woke, it felt like an hour later and the paramedics still weren't there. The truck was gone too. They were completely and utterly alone.

From where his hand was placed (on Arthur's cheek), Alfred could feel the beginnings of a fever settling in. He wanted to curse the world, he wanted to scream how unfair it was, but in a way, it was fitting. There was no one else he'd rather die beside.

"Hey, Artie," Alfred nudged him awake.

Arthur blinked sleepily for a few seconds, smiling after seeing Alfred's face. "Good morning, love."

"Artie, do you wanna know what the best part about sleeping outside is?"

Arthur breathed in lightly, pondering the question. "I don't know, dearest. Do tell."

"Getting to watch you show up the sunrise with your beautiful face," Alfred said.

Arthur giggled softly, unable to control his laughter. "That is the cheesiest, most corny-of all-oh Alfred, I love you."

"I love you too babe."

Alfred slid Arthur off of his leg gently and then used his elbows to slide himself down to the grass. He made sure they were an eyelash blink's away.

"Here's to an eternity," Alfred whispered, clutching Arthur's hand. He gingerly kissed the bloodied knuckles and whispered his love. Arthur smiled and squeezed just a smidge tighter.

When the paramedics arrived, they were wrapped together on the sidelines of the wreckage.

Alfred had woken up in a hospital bed with a start. He hadn't expected the hospital. He hadn't even expected to wake up. And Arthur. Where was Arthur?

Oh. According to a nurse, that was what they were here to discuss. Fine, Alfred just wanted to see Arthur.

Oh. He couldn't see Arthur. Well, could they tell him-?

Oh. Arthur couldn't hear. That's fine, he would write a note, and deliver it-

Oh. Arthur couldn't get letters.

Oh. Arthur was gone. Would he be coming back?

Oh. Arthur...was dead.

Alfred felt his joy drain away until he was filled with nothing. Arthur wasn't there anymore. Lovely, wonderful, Arthur, who he had promised eternity to, was gone. He was enraged, of course. Afterall, he was the one driving during the accident. And now he was here alone, forever. Or a lifetime. But a lifetime felt like forever.

He supposed he could wait. Afterall, what was a lifetime to an eternity?


End file.
